You Already Know That
by liljemsey
Summary: "Dropping her keys and badge in the bowl by his entry she expected to be greeted by some large and extravagant dinner or bunch of flowers but instead was met with silence. Silence in the Castle household only meant one thing, something must be horribly wrong." Thirteen - Afterlife. Inspired by a prompt table found on LiveJournal a series of Beckett/Castle one shots.
1. First Kiss

**A/N: Attempting a new fix using a prompt table found on LiveJournal. Fingers crossed I can get this one done. I've never actually written Castle fanfiction before so be kind.**

**Disclaimer: **Castle etc. is not mine.

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**Chapter One: **First Kiss

Years from now when they had been married for several years, and he was positive that they would be, they would tell this story to their children. Rather he would tell the story to their children while she would scoff at him and tell him it was no big deal. He can picture her, the angles of her face a little softer with age and those same hazel eyes surrounded by a few extra laugh lines as she hits him on the shoulder and tells their kids, a boy and a girl, that their father has embellished the story and blown it way out of proportion.

He was pulled back to the present by the sound of her voice and he looked up to see her looking back over her should at him.

"Hmm?" he asked still partway caught in his daydream.

"I said you comin'?" she said rolling her eyes in exasperation, looking way to composed in the face of what had just happened between them.

"Yeah," he nodded and winced as he stepped over the prone man lying on the street in front of them. The guy was going to have one hell of a headache when he woke up. Come to think of it Beckett would have a headache too after the way she took that guy out. He made a mental note to give her an Advil with her coffee when they got back to the precinct.

The take down was quick and brutal and they all came out with injuries, though some were only to pride. Ryan and Esposito were taken, not without argument to the hospital to get checked out and he lost track of Beckett as he was herded into the back of an ambulance to get his hand wrapped. He'd have to find an Advil for himself as his bruised knuckles ached something terrible. Punching someone in the face definitely wasn't as pain free as it looked in the movies. He'd do it all again in a heartbeat though simply if it meant she would touch him as tenderly as she did as she re-wrapped his bandage for him in the back of the ambulance.

They didn't speak about the events of the night as they drove in silence back to the station. He'd gone to bring it up but one look at her told him it probably wasn't the right time. She looked exhausted, the events of the last couple of hours certainly starting to take their toll. She had a lead into her mother's murder dangled in front of her only to have it ripped away cruelly before she could learn anything in the death of John Raglan. The man responsible for that murder had then kidnapped her partners and tortured them for information and would have killed her if it hadn't been for him.

God he had been so scared. He had seen the gun pointing at her and reacted without even thinking, without any thought for his own mortality. Lockwood had been on the ground with blood streaming from his nose before he even realised that it had been his fist that had caused that to happen.

"I'll drop you back at the loft," she said softly not taking her eyes off the road to look at him as she spoke.

"Like hell," he replied.

"There's only paperwork left to do Castle and I need some time alone," she said flicking her eyes to him briefly before looking back at the road.

"And I know what will happen if I give you space," he said looking at her knowingly even as she refused to look at him, "You don't need to be alone right now."

"How do you know what I need?" she asked although the words lacked their usual venom. He was used to her becoming defensive whenever someone got too close, it was how she coped, how she kept herself safe from getting hurt.

"Because I know you," he shrugged and decided to leave it at that. If he actually did want her to let him stay he couldn't' push her too far and he wasn't going to leave her alone, not tonight. Not when so much had happened.

She didn't reply but pressed her lips together tightly before blowing out a long, slow breath. He ached to reach over and brush the stray bit of hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear or simply take her hand and hold it in his own to comfort her physically in the way that he himself longed for but he couldn't. That wasn't the way she dealt with things. He knew how this would play out. She would get caught up in her own head, think over every possibility. If only Raglan had leant forward, if only she hadn't sent Ryan and Esposito to check out Lockwood's hotel suite, if only she hadn't let Lockwood back her into a corner than maybe things wouldn't have turned out the way that they had.

The guilt would eat at her and the only way she would feel like she could fight it would be if she worked herself to the bone to make up for what she would see as personal shortcomings.

He had learnt long ago what to fight her on. Some days when he could see the weight of a difficult case swirling in her gaze he would coerce into going home. He would invite her to the loft where his family and their light would surround her and their laughter would help lift the pain in her gaze. Other days he knew there was no sense in arguing with her so he would simply sit in his chair next to her desk and stay with her well into the night as she worked, hoping that simply his presence would help keep her head above water.

He wouldn't fight her tonight.

Her silence continued as they made their way into the precinct. While she went over to her desk he went into the break room and made her a coffee. As he waited for the machine to finish he popped a painkiller and stretched out his sore hand. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he sent a quick message to his daughter informing her that everything was alright and that he would be at the station until late. Wiping off the machine he grabbed her now steaming mug and made his way back out into the bullpen.

She was sitting now, her head in her hands and fingers rubbing at her temples. His earlier assumptions of a headache having been confirmed with that simple action. Placing her mug down gently on her desk he reached into his coat jacket and took out two more pills and placing them next to her mug. Without a word he settled in his chair and took out his phone, content to sit next to her for as long as she worked.

She didn't mention the coffee or the pill but when he next looked up the pills were gone and she held the mug in one hand while her other flicked across the page as she filled in paperwork. Her lower lip was pulled into her mouth as she bit down, a sure sign that she was in deep thought about something and his whole body suddenly felt warm at a memory from earlier that night. How right it had felt to have that same lip pressed against his own. Inspiration striking suddenly he turned back to his phone and opened the note taking app. He usually didn't like writing on the thing but the words needed to get out of his head. Before too long he had Nikki and Rook caught in a lip lock all part of a rouse to get them inside a building where Raley and Ochoa are being held captive. He is so caught up in his fictional world that he jumps out of his skin when a soft, weathered hand lands on his shoulder.

"Wha," he spins hands raised and prepared to defend himself from the unknown assailant, "Oh, sorry Rosie," his hands fall to his lap when he realises it is the nightly cleaner.

"You here late Mister Castle," she says, her eyes crinkling on a smile, "How you write books if you here so late?"

"Believe it or not women are not the only ones who can multitask," he chuckled. He'd always had a spot for the old woman who would bring them home cooked food made from old family recipes when they were stuck late working on a case.

"Time for home," she said her eyes moving to gaze over his shoulder, "She work too hard," she said before shuffling off towards the Captain's office.

Turning back around his gaze swept over her form and he smiled softly. Her head was resting in one hand, eyes closed and face relaxed. In her other hand her pen rested loosely still against the paperwork she had fallen asleep in the middle of doing. She really was beautiful, the dark lashes splayed against her angular cheekbones and soft lips parted slightly in sleep. A stray curl that had escaped her ponytail fluttered in front of her face with every deep, even breath she took and this time he couldn't stop himself from reaching forward and brushing it back behind her ear.

Tonight would definitely be one he remembered for the rest of his life. It felt like the start of something special. They had shared their first kiss, albeit as part of an undercover mission, but first kiss nonetheless and he couldn't help but think that there was more Kate Beckett in that kiss than there was drunk pretend girlfriend. He hadn't imagined the breathy moan she made or the way it was her who had gone in for more and kissed him back with an intensity he hadn't expected.


	2. Final

**Chapter Two: **Final

A huge part of being a homicide detective was being able to read people. Beckett prided herself on being able to pick up on the smallest nuances in the way someone spoke. She loved being able to catch someone out on a lie by simply looking at their body language. In the academy they taught young recruits what to look out for when questioning a suspect but her training officer had told her early on that she had a gift for it. He'd told her that he truly believed it wasn't something someone could learn.

"Kid, some people are just born with the gift," he'd told her one afternoon after she had helped him on a case.

She had always liked being one step ahead. She liked being able to know how someone was going to react by watching the way they held themselves. Ryan and Esposito had on more than one occasion muttered under their breaths about the frustrating way she seemed to be able to pick the guilty party out of a crowd before they did. Castle liked to say she was using her super powers for good and not evil so they shouldn't bemoan her the fact but at the moment she almost wished she wasn't so good at it.

He hadn't come right out and said it but somehow she just knew. Her stupid gift, so useful in the past was now breaking her heart. He wouldn't be coming back after this case.

The irrational part of her brain told her she should slow things down. To not push so hard for a confession so that maybe their time together would be extended but that would lead to questions she was sure she didn't want to answer.

She watched him as he picked up his jacket at the end of the night. His eyes were tired, his whole body seeming heavy. The light that she was so used to seeing, missing from his eyes.

"Goodnight," he said as he walked off towards the elevators. There was no 'until tomorrow,' the farewell he had deemed more hopeful. There was no hope. He wasn't coming back.

She thought they were doing better. She had thought they were finally working through their issues together, working towards what she thought they both wanted. Then, like the flick of a switch it had changed. He was distant. He was dating blonde air-hostesses as she watched from the sidelines wondering what had happened.

Her whole career she had searched for answers. Why her mother had been killed. Who had killed her? She was the most driven detective on the force because she fought for her victims. Gave their families the answers she herself was never given. She couldn't let him leave without knowing why. What had changed that had made him want to give up on her, on them.

"Castle," she called and for a second she thought he wasn't going to turn around.

He spun as if in slow motion and her breath caught in her throat as she caught the blank expression on his face. He was the most expressive person she knew and to see him looking so void of emotion it broke her heart.

"What did I do?" she half whispered.

"It's not what you did Kate," he says, his shoulders dropping, "It's what you didn't."

A sob caught in her throat and she fought to keep it down. He stiffened as he reached forward to press the button to call the elevator and she knew she hadn't been entirely successful.

He held her gaze as he turned around and she saw him falter slightly at the sight of the lone tear she could feel rolling down her cheek.

"See you tomorrow," he said as the doors closed around him.

Maybe it wouldn't be their final case after all.


	3. Numb

**Chapter Three: **Numb

The ride up to her apartment seems to be never ending. After a excruciatingly long week at the precinct all she wants is to collapse on her couch with a glass of wine. Alone.

She can't find the energy tonight to put up the front that she usually shows to the world. Just trying to keep a smile on her face when everyday she can feel her insides turning to ice is exhausting and she can't do it anymore. When she seems him waiting outside her door her stomach drops. She can't do it, not tonight, but then he smiles at her, his whole face lightening when he notices her presence and she finds herself smiling back. Even she knows it looks forced but she can't force herself to care.

He kisses her as she opens the door and she kisses him back, nothing behind it but the obligation she feels. That is what he has become. An obligation. She feels nothing when she is with him and that scares her.

After her mother was killed she had to stop herself from feeling anything because if she did she knew it would force her to crumble and she wouldn't have survived that way. Instead she become hard, like stone and threw herself into her training. Worked herself ragged so there was no opportunity for her to wallow in her despair. Then Castle had come along and he had slowly but surely been chipping away at the touch exterior she wrapped herself in.

She had finally been ready to let him in. To give them a chance to be together and then he had shown up at the precinct with his ex-wife and she had felt the wall coming up again brick by brick.

Now she was stuck, in a relationship with another man. A good man who did the best that he could with what she gave, but a man who she felt nothing for. She didn't know why she stayed with him or why he stayed with her for that matter.

"What's wrong?" his voice jolted her from her thoughts.

He looked hopeful, like he thought today might be the day when she actually shared her thoughts with him and eventually nodded in resignation when she stayed silent.

"Do you even want me here?" he asks, reaching out like he is going to touch her but then dropping his hand back to his side as if thinking better of it.

She doesn't say anything, can't force herself to. It isn't fair. She isn't being fair to him and she knows it but she isn't going to lie. Not anymore. At once stage it was easier to be alone with him but now she can't even stand the thought of having him there.

"You need to let someone in Kate," he says starting at her until she meets his eyes.

He waits before leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead, her eyes closing at the action.

"You deserve to be happy," he says as he makes his way to the door, "You just have to let yourself be."

She doesn't watch him leave. Walks to the couch on autopilot and her legs give way just as she gets there. She grabs the blanket that rests on the back of the couch, the blanket her mother made for her when she was a baby and wraps it around herself, breathing deep and pretending she can still smell traces of her mother's perfume on the soft fabric.

It's times like these that she aches for her mother. Longs for the words of comfort that only a mother can give. Words of comfort she has been deprived of for so long.

She stuffs it back down, the tears that should be falling at the grief she is feeling. She won't let it out, not now. Won't be the girl who cries alone in her apartment.

Instead she closes her eyes, lets the all-encompassing darkness pull her down.

She must doze off because the next thing she is aware of is a soft warmth spreading across her cheeks.

"Hey," his voice says softly as she blinks her eyes open.

"How'd you get in?" she asks, not moving from her spot on the couch.

"I told your landlady it was an emergency," he winks at her, his fingers continuing to caress the side of her face.

"An emergency," she scoffs finding herself leaning unconsciously into his touch.

"It was an emergency," he protests, "Pad Thai is at its best when it's hot."

"You bought dinner?" she asks, her eyes slipping shut as he moves to caress her hair.

This goes against every line they have ever drawn for themselves but for some reason she can't find it within herself to care. The warmth that is spreading across her skin from his touch is more than she has felt in forever and for once she is happy to let herself feel.

"Alexis is at Paige's and Mother is hosting a rehearsal in my living room," he screws up his face, "It wasn't exactly the right place to be after the week we've had."

"Hmm," she replies, "Wasn' good," her voice sounds slurred even to her own ears but she can't bring herself to care. His ministrations feel so good and he was right, they have had a tough week.

"You going to go to sleep?" he asks, his fingers catching in a wayward curl.

"Whattbout Thai?" she asks, already feeling herself slipping back under.

"It'll keep," he says, his other hand reaching down to twine his fingers with hers, "Sleep."

And she does. Feeling warm for the first time since last summer.


	4. Broken Wings

**A/N: **These prompts have got me all angsty so I apologise for that. Hopefully my imagination will take me to less angsty places in chapters to come.

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**Chapter Four: **Broken Wings

When Alexis Castle had first met Kate Beckett she had been enamoured straight away. Beckett was strong, fearless and spoke to Alexis like she was her own person instead of just Richard Castle's daughter. She had a wry sense of humour, she was beautiful and she always made time for Alexis if she needed advice from someone other than her Dad. She loved her mother but she wasn't great with practical advice and Kate didn't beat around the bush, she told her the truth and treated her problems with a seriousness that Alexis valued.

She knew her father cared for the detective and there were little things that made her believe that Beckett cared for him too. Despite the detective's pretence of being annoyed by her father Alexis had caught the little looks between them and the way Beckett's face softened whenever Alexis talked about the latest antics the two Castles had gotten up to told her that there were definitely feelings there. For now she was willing to wait for the two of them to figure it out.

When her father returned to the loft with a slightly battered looking Detective Beckett in tow Alexis had been thrilled. Not that Beckett's place had been blown up or that she was hurt but at the prospect of spending more time with the older woman. She didn't have many female role models apart from her grandmother and she looked up to Beckett almost like one would an older sister.

Most of Beckett's possessions had been destroyed in the explosion so when she emerged from the top of the stairs wearing a pair of the teenager's leggings and her father's T-Shirts Alexis finds herself letting out a surprised gasp. Beckett looks so small, her father's shirt drowning her, her face scrubbed free of makeup making her look so much younger. Alexis feels like she is getting a glimpse of Kate, the woman behind the detective who despite wearing borrowed clothing too big for her, having a bandage on her wrist and a cut above her left eyebrow still holds herself proudly.

In the time Beckett has been in the shower her father has managed to concoct vast arrange of food which he has spread across the coffee table. Standard Castle household comfort night includes eating on the couch in front of their large plasma screen. Once her grandmother was satisfied that Beckett was okay she had said her goodbyes and headed off to some show. While she loves her grandmother she can be a little overwhelming at times and Alexis has a feeling that the overly private Detective Beckett would shy away from there more if Martha was there being her exuberant self.

She herself is settled on one side of the couch and her father on the other leaving Beckett the spot in the middle. She can see the way the older woman pauses and her eyes flick from the spot between them to the empty armchair before she squares her shoulders and sits between the two Castles.

"Prepare yourself for the culinary experience of Hurricane Martha," her father says breaking the silence, "We've got a wide range of I don't know what all ready for you to chow down on," he says indicating the vast array of leftovers spread across the coffee table. She knows her father well enough to know that he is being extra cheerful to try and get a reaction from the detective.

"I'm not really all that hungry," Beckett says and Alexis can see her father visibly deflate.

"You need to eat something," he says softly starting to make up a plate. Beckett starts to protest as he scoops more food onto it but stops short when he doesn't hand it to her but instead hands it to his daughter.

Alexis has already had dinner and she opens her mouth to tell her father so but stops when she realises what he is doing. Beckett doesn't like to be seen as a burden and he is hoping that if they eat then she won't feel so much like she is relying on someone to take care of her.

"Gram really does make the best chicken masala," Alexis says taking a mouthful and smiling as her father hands Beckett a plate, "The mess she makes in the kitchen is almost worth it."

"Mother certainly has a talent for making a mess," her father says watching to make sure Beckett starts eating before starting on his own plate.

Their chitchat is idle and bane as they eat and Alexis can tell her father is working extra hard to keep the conversation even with Beckett's monosyllabic answers. The teenager can't blame the other woman for not being up to talking, she did lose all her earthly possessions and nearly her life earlier that night but she still helps her father fill the gaps.

When the meal is cleared her father tells Beckett that they should get some rest but the detective refuses claiming not to be tired. Her father pauses momentarily to stare at his partner before nodding shortly. What it is he sees there in her gaze Alexis is not sure but she has always been amazed at the way the two of them seem to be able to communicate without words.

"Then I think an obligatory viewing of the Wizard of Oz is in order," her father says cracking a smile and heading over to their entertainment unit.

"It's a Castle staple on nights like these," she tells Beckett.

"I haven't watched this since I was a kid, my parents and I used to watch it every year," the detective tells her quietly and Alexis cuts her eyes to her father, seeing the hurt flash across his gaze that his partner would open up to his daughter and not to him.

"That's awesome," Alexis replies, "Dad and I do that with A Christmas Carol. It's like our tradition."

"That's a good one too," Beckett nodded her fingers playing with the edge of the bandage on her wrist.

"Are we ready Number One?" her dad asked as he headed for the light switch.

"Ready Captain," she replied giggling as her father dramatically dimmed the lights. The Castles could make even the most mundane task dramatic.

Her father flops down onto the couch next to Beckett and presses play. From the way his fingers are clenched on his knees Alexis knows he is fighting the urge to reach out and touch the woman sitting next to him. Her father is a very tactile person, craves the touch of others and she knows it is killing him not being able to touch Beckett. They are polar opposites in so many ways that sometimes she wonders how their unlikely partnership works.

Somewhere along the Yellow Brick Road Alexis feels a soft weight hitting her side and looks over in surprise to see the detective's body canted towards hers, her head resting against the teen's shoulder. Even in sleep she can tell Beckett isn't completely at ease and she looks at her father for help.

He is watching them, a sad smile on his face and she looks at him questioningly knowing he will share whatever is on his mind with her soon enough.

"It's not fair," he says quietly, "For her to lose so much."

"Material possessions aren't everything," Alexis replies.

"Not what I meant," her father says standing from the couch and cracking his back.

He scoops his partner up like she weighs nothing and Alexis watches in fascination as the Detective's body moulds to his like a puzzle piece slipping into place. Her gaze follows them as he carries her up the stairs and she is struck with how gentle her father is with his partner in his arms. She has never seen him be so tender with a woman before.

She looks at the city lights outside the loft's window as she waits for her father to come back downstairs, his words from earlier echoing in her mind. What exactly had he been talking about when he lamented how much Beckett had lost?

His large hand on her shoulder pulled her from her thoughts and she smiled at him as he sat on the couch next to her.

"She okay?" she asks him leaning over so her head was resting on his chest.

"Out like a light," her father says kissing the top of her head.

"Good," she nods, "She's been through a lot."

"She has indeed Baby Bird," her father nods, his voice rumbling in his chest.

Later that night Alexis finds herself unable to sleep. She can remember speaking to her friends one day about how cool Beckett was, how the older woman didn't let anything get to her. No matter what she admired the way that Beckett kept fighting except now she realised the toll that had to have taken. She couldn't imagine having to fight everyday to simply put on a brave face despite having lost what she has. Her father had lamented the fact that his partner had lost so much and she had finally figured out what he meant by that.

Kate didn't let herself open up to people. She kept herself guarded because it was the only what she knew how to protect her heart. Having lived through what she had she had found the only coping mechanism she could but while trying to protect herself in this way she had essentially lost the chance to really live. By cutting herself off and not letting herself really feel she wasn't really living merely existing and that thought broke Alexis' heart.

Deciding to get a glass of water the teenager makes her way down the hallway, making sure to avoid the spots she knows the floor creaks. She pauses when she gets to the guest bedroom when she hears a noise coming from within. Pressing her ear to the door she hears a choked gasp and despite knowing how the older woman values privacy she can't stop herself from opening the door slowly and inching her way inside.

The bedside lamp is on casting the room in a warm orange glow and Alexis feels her breath get caught in her throat when she sees the normally composed detective hunched over on the side of the bed, her small frame wracked with sobs. She has never seen someone look so broken before and it pulls her towards the other woman, her instinct to comfort kicking in.

It seems that Beckett hadn't noticed her presence because she startles when the teenager lowers herself onto the bed next to her and hastily tries to wipe the tears from her face. She shudders as she tries to repress her sobs and tenses when Alexis reaches over to place a tentative hand on her shoulder.

The teenager doesn't bother to ask what is wrong. There doesn't really seem to a point to it at this stage. She moves her hand in slow circles over the detective's shoulder blade the way her father does for her whenever she is upset. She almost expects Beckett to pull away and is surprised when the detective grabs for her other hand and holds on for dear life, her grip almost painful.

Alexis can't help but think that this is a turning point, her youthful belief in fate and destiny causing her to still believe that everything will work out in the end.

She wakes up alone in the guest bedroom the next morning and it takes her a moment to get her bearings. Stumbling down the stairs and rubbing her eyes she stops suddenly on the bottom step as she takes in what is happening in the kitchen.

Beckett is standing at the kitchen counter and spatula in one hand and a plate of bacon in the other. Her father stands on the other side and Alexis can't help but smile when the detective smacks his hand away from the plate of breakfast food laughing softly at something her father says in return.

"When will those two open their eyes and get their acts together?" her grandmother's voice sounds from behind her.

Alexis chuckles in reply making her way down the rest of the stairs and into the kitchen.

"How are you feeling this morning Detective Beckett?" she asks sneaking a piece of bacon and making her father pout when she doesn't get her hand smacked away.

"Alexis please call me Kate," the older woman says loading up a plate with breakfast food and handing it to the teenager, holding her gaze in silent thanks.

"What about me?" her father asks grinning expectantly, "Can I call you Kate?"

"In your dreams Castle," comes the reply.

"Actually in my dreams I call you…ow!" he whines as she smacks him again with the spatula.

Alexis laughs and takes a bite of her breakfast. Things are definitely looking up.

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**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has read, favourite and followed this story so far. It would be really great to hear from some of you and get some feedback so don't be shy, send me through a review.**


	5. Five

**Chapter Five: **Melody

It seemed to him that every day he learnt something new about her and every time he did he decided that that new thing was what he loved about her most. Last week when he discovered she talked in her sleep he decided that her sleep slurred ramblings was what he loved about her the most. On Monday she made the most ridiculously adorable wrinkled nose face when she'd tasted one of his kitchen concoctions and he'd decided he'd loved that about her most.

Now he was going to have to change it again. She'd gotten up before him this morning, which wasn't out of character on days she was working. Usually she slipped out without him having noticed and would come back in later once she was dressed with a cup of coffee for him but this morning he had woken when she got up and as a result learnt something new about her.

Over the sound of the shower running he could hear her singing and he was absolutely mesmerised by the sweet melody coming from his bathroom. Her voice was low and seductive and despite the fact that she was singing a Spice Girls song (something he had to remember to tease her about later) it sent a shiver of arousal straight down his spine.

He was on his feet before he knew what was happening and made his way towards his bathroom, drawn to the sound of her voice. The bathroom was steamy when he opened the door, she didn't like to use the extractor fan despite his many lectures about water damage, and he could make out her faint outline through the glass door of his shower. Chuckling to himself when he realised she was using his shampoo bottle as a microphone he began to remove his clothing. By the time he was undressed she had switched to a slow jazz song and he nearly tripped over the bathmat in his haste to join her.

Slipping through the shower door he stopped, momentarily stunned by her. Sidling up behind her he wrapped his arms around her waist, his skin slick against hers. She gasped in surprise and dropped the shampoo bottle as she spun in his arms so they were chest to chest.

"I didn't know you could sing," he murmurs kissing her neck and enjoying the way her body shudders in response.

"Yeah, well there's lots of things you don't know about me," she smirks bringing her lips up to meet his.

He knows he is going to enjoy finding out just what those things are.


	6. Rules

**Chapter Six: **Rules

When he got into it he didn't realise there would be so many rules to dating Kate Beckett.

**Rule 1: Don't eat food off her plate.**

While he thought it was romantic to share food over candlelight the back of his hand learnt the hard way that Beckett disagreed. The egg roll on her plate had just looked so tempting and she had already had three so he didn't think she would mind sharing. He had been wrong and her chopsticks had stung as the flicked across the back of his hand.

"Come one Beckett, whatever happened to what's mine is yours?" he'd whined cradling his wounded hand to his chest.

"We're not married Castle," she retorted, "And don't steal my food."

"But yours looks so yummy," he sounded petulant even to his own ears.

"It's not my fault you ordered something new," she shrugged popping the offending egg roll into her mouth.

"I was trying to be adventurous," he said, "Which did not pay off."

"Sorry Castle, sometimes we just have to live with our choices," she said licking her lips.

Well, if she wasn't going to let him eat it from her plate he was just going to have to get to it some other way. He reached across the space between them and pulled her head in close, crushing her lips to his own.

"Mmm," he said pulling back and licking his own lips, "They were tasty."

**Rule 2: Don't go snooping through her stuff.**

"Castle?"

He knew if he could see himself in a mirror his expression would be of a little kid who got caught stealing from the cookie jar.

"Oh hey, you're back early," he said turning slowly and hoping that he doesn't look as guilty as he feels.

"What are you doing in my wardrobe?" she asked inching closer hands on her hips. In that position she has revealed that her gun is strapped into its holster at her hip and he gulps.

"Putting away laundry?" he said although the uncertainty with which he says it makes her frown and he flinches as her hand brushes over her gun, "Okay, okay," he said putting his hands up pleadingly, "I'll tell you just don't shoot me."

"Good to know you wouldn't stand up well under torture," she said moving towards her nightstand, "And I wasn't going to shoot you, I'm just going to put it away. Although I might reconsider if I don't like what you have to say."

"It's my birthday next week," he said.

"And," she replied putting her gun and badge in the box on her nightstand.

"And I wanted to see what you got me."

She stalked towards him and he backed up, stopping only when his back hit the door to her wardrobe. Once she was in his personal space she put her hands on either side of his head, an advantage of the towering heels she wore, and moved in so her face was inches from his own.

"How do you know I've even gotten you anything Writer Man?" she asked, her breath hot on his face.

"I-I don't," he stuttered as she leaned in and ran her tongue over the shell of his ear.

"Castle," she whispered, her hands now roaming freely down his chest.

"Y-yes," he groaned, his head thudding as it hit the door behind him.

"Don't ever go through my stuff without permission again."

**Rule 3: Don't wake her up if you don't have caffeine on hand.**

He was trying hard not to find it funny because at first he thought it was a joke. He'd thought of a hilarious line for his novel and he couldn't wait to share it with her, only it was five AM and she had only gotten to bed a few hours earlier. He himself had gotten to bed at a reasonable hour, he was a little behind in his writing so had elected to stay at home that day and after she had called and said she was going to be late had crashed around eleven.

Inspiration had struck around four and he had woken to find her curled up at his side, her open mouth resting against his bicep. He knows she only sleeps this way when she is completely exhausted so he isn't surprised when she doesn't even stir when he extracts himself from her. He contemplates writing in his office but he missed her today and doesn't want to sit alone in his office when he knows she is next door in his bed so he grabs his laptop from his desk and heads back to bed.

Once he is settled back in bed with his laptop settled on his knees, the words seem to flow out of him. He spares a glance to her but she is still dead to the world her face turned towards him. When the line pops into his head he chuckles to himself at his own brilliance and reaches his hand out to shake her awake, wanting to share it with her. When she doesn't stir his hand hovers over her shoulder and he wonders if maybe he shouldn't wake her considering how little sleep she had gotten but she had bickered with him earlier in the week that it wasn't fair that his work got on the fan sites before he'd told her about it so he figured she'd rather miss a few minutes sleep than miss out on being the first to read his work.

"Beckett, Kate," he shakes her gently again and reaches over to run his finger softly down her cheek.

She mumbles something incoherent and turns so she is snuggled further into his side. He finds this side of her completely adorable and can't stop the little grin that spreads over his face.

"Come on Beckett, I wanna read you something," he says shaking her again.

"Hey sleepyhead," he smirks when her eyes finally open and his smile grows as she looks around blearily until her gaze settles on him.

"Whassa time?" she asks, voice husky, "Gotta get up?"

"It's early," he says smoothing back her hair, "I wanted to read you something I just wrote."

"Coffee?" she asks rubbing her eyes.

"No babe," he chuckles, "It's too early for coffee, I just want you to hear this."

"Don't babe me Castle," she growls and his eyes open wide at her sudden change in demeanour, "I told you already I hate when you call me that."

"Sorry," he says, "I forget when you're being all adorable and just awake."

"I wouldn't be just awake if someone didn't wake me up for no reason at the ass crack of dawn," she grumbles and settles back down onto her side.

"It's not for no reason," he argues with her, "I told you I just wrote something that I want you to read. It's one of my best puns yet," he wiggles his eyebrows.

"Not only am I not on call tomorrow so I don't have to get up early you didn't even think that if you were going to wake me up at this ridiculous time that maybe you could make me a cup of coffee first," she grouches, although the bite is taken out of it a little as her last couple of lines get lost on a yawn.

"Wow someone really is grouchy this morning," he chuckles.

"Don't mess with me Castle, not now," she says.

"Sorry, sorry," he replies, "Can I at least read you this part now? I know you said you wanted to know about stuff before the fan sites got hold of it."

"Fine, read," she mumbles.

By the time he finishes the section he has just written and has gotten to the line he was so excited about she is snoring softly at his side. Closing his laptop on a sigh he places it on his side table and shuffles down in the bed so that their faces are level.

"Definitely have to remember the coffee next time."

**Rule Four: No non-work related touching at the precinct. **

She had been pretty clear from the start. Hands were to remain to themselves while at work. The NYPD had a pretty hard and fast rule about co-workers being involved and she didn't want to risk anybody finding out about them. He also suspected that a part of her didn't want to give her co-workers the satisfaction of knowing they had gotten her feelings pegged before she did.

She had worn that blouse today. The one that clings to her curves enticingly but still left a little to the imagination. And what an imagination he had. By the time lunchtime rolled around he couldn't keep his hands to himself any longer and he managed to corner her in the break room.

After all, rules were meant to be broken.


	7. Nostalgia

**Chapter Seven: **Nostalgia

Most girls would be happy with a bunch of flowers or some big romantic gesture. He had a problem though because Kate Beckett wasn't most girls.

He had been an ass, said something without thinking and now she wasn't speaking to him. With previous girlfriends he could shower them with gifts and they would find it easy enough to forgive him but Beckett wouldn't be happy with showy and big. She'd said before that he couldn't buy her affections and he wasn't about to do anything that may make her even angrier than she already was.

For the first time in his life he hadn't been able to talk his way out of it. Words were his thing but it had been a particularly long and frustrating week at the precinct and she was already at her wit's end so simply putting on the Castle charm wasn't going to be enough this time.

She was currently in his bedroom reading a novel and while he usually would be in there with her he couldn't face the frosty reception he knew would greet him if he stepped foot into the room. When they had closed the case he was afraid that she wouldn't come home with him and would instead retreat to the solitude of her own apartment but had been pleasantly surprised when she had silently followed him into the cab that waited for him outside the precinct.

They hadn't said a word on the ride back to the loft and he had trailed several steps behind her as they walked through the lobby and waited for the elevator. He had opened his mouth to speak several times on the ride up to his floor but every time he opened his mouth she had glared at him so he wisely thought it better to not say a thing.

Now he was sitting in his darkened office staring longingly at the door to his bedroom, wanting nothing more than to have her pressed up against his side as she read and he wrote a chapter for his new book. He hadn't meant to say what he did, frustrated words the result of a lack of evidence and a lack of sleep. Now he had absolutely no idea how to make it up to her.

Running a frustrated hand through his hair he grabbed for his laptop, thinking maybe if he wrote inspiration would bleed into this real life situation. Opening up the lid he blinked when the welcome screen didn't immediately greet him. Jabbing at the power button he groaned when nothing happened. It was flat and his charger was plugged in next to his bed and there was no way he was going in there without some sort of game plan as to how to make this better. Shutting his laptop with a little more force than was necessary he decided he would just do things the old fashioned way and rooted around in his top drawer to find the notebook he usually used for occasions when he felt like going old school.

When his fingers hit soft leather he paused, momentarily confused before he pulled out a small, leather bound book. He smiled as he ran his fingers down the spine remembering when he had bought it. When he first started shadowing Beckett at the precinct he had been delighted to discover she took notes in a small notepad when they were on a case. It had reminded him of the old detective stories he had read as a kid and seeing her pull it from her pocket and flip it open, her pen flying across the page as she noted down details for the case had delighted him to no end. He had even on one occasion begged her to wear a deerstalker hat just like Sherlock Holmes had only to be on the receiving ends of one of her famous Beckett glares. Not wanting to be left out he had rushed out and bought his own notepad to take notes in but his had turned into a place where he could write down anything that popped into this head while in the precinct.

Now it was filled mostly with observations he had made about her as he sat watching her work. Sometimes it was a word or two here or there, other times he had written poems, inspired by something she had said or the way that the light sometimes reflected through the window and made her look like she had an almost ethereal glow. His fingers had written on those pages the words he had been too afraid to say in those four years.

Suddenly he knew exactly what he needed to do. Flipping through the notepad until he found the page he wanted he stood and headed with determination towards his bedroom door. He was prepared for the fight that would greet him on the other side of the door but still took a minute to breathe before he pushed it open.

The room was illuminated by the soft glow of the lamps that sat on his bedside tables and he smiled when he saw her asleep with the book she had been reading resting on her chest. It wasn't unlike her to crash like this after a long case and he could picture a young Katie Beckett falling asleep in a similar way, too stubborn to stop reading to admit she was tired.

He gently slipped the novel out from her fingertips then replaced it with the notepad. Grabbing his charger from where it was plugged in next to the bed he took a moment to study her before dropping a quick kiss to her forehead and headed back to his office. He didn't want to be there when she woke up and read the words he had written years ago. She would come to him when she was ready, he only hoped the gesture would do the trick.

He was so happy that he finally got to be with her, not at all nostalgic for the guy who had had to hide his love and write it all secretly down in that small leather book.

He loved her and she loved him and it was that fact that made him positive that she would forgive him and that they would be okay.


	8. Chocolate

**Chapter Eight: **Chocolate

Holidays were a big deal in the Castle household. His Mother had always made sure that the holidays were special for him, instilling in him a love for the magic they could bring.

When he became a father he made sure that he passed on his own love for the holidays to his daughter and took great pleasure in going over the top every year in turning his apartment into a testament to whatever holiday it was.

His wife was a different story. Having stopped believing in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny at a sinfully early age the magic of the season had been lost to her, especially after the death of her mother. While she indulged him when he went over the top with his decorations she didn't quite share his enthusiasm for the make believe. Last year he had made giant bunny shaped footprints leading from her bed to the kitchen only the paint he had used hadn't been washable as he had thought and had stained the floor of her apartment. The magic had kind of been lost on her that day.

They had been married for nine months now and this year he was determined to change her mind. She was a Castle now and Castle's were all about the mysterious phenomenon's that came along with the holidays. He knew that his enthusiasm alone wouldn't get the trick done so this year he had recruited some extra help that he was sure would help get her truly into the spirit of things.

His plan was fool proof. In about ten minutes time she would not be able to deny that the magic of the make believe was something that couldn't be denied. Once he had double-checked and was satisfied that everything was in place he pressed the call button on his phone and waited.

It took a couple of rings but he smiled when he heard the groggy "Beckett" sound from the other end of the line.

"Morning beautiful," he said brightly.

"Castle?" she questioned clearing her throat. He could hear the sheets rustling down the line and knew she would be rolling over to check his side of the bed, no doubt confused as to why he was waking her up with a phone call instead of being right next to her in their bed.

"Happy Easter Mrs Castle," he said.

"Castle, what the hell is going on? Where are you?" she asked obviously more awake at this stage.

"I'm in the loft," he shrugged.

"Why the hell are you calling me on the phone then?" she asked him.

"I want you to come and find me," he shrugged.

"Seriously?" he could picture her rolling her eyes, "Castle you know I had a late shift last night."

"I know, but its Easter Beckett, you can't sleep in on Easter."

"Watch me," she said.

"No! Beckett," he yelped, "Please you have to come and find me."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I've found the Easter Bunny," he said conspiringly.

"The Easter Bunny?" she huffed, "Castle you should know it's going to take more than that to get me out of bed this early on my day off."

"Come on Beckett, you won't regret it I promise," he pleaded with her.

"Fine," she conceded, "But only if you promise I can go back to bed after I've seen this non existent Easter Bunny."

"I promise that if you still don't believe that the Easter Bunny is real after you've found me then you can go back to bed," he said.

"How will I find you?' she asked.

"Oh I think you'll find that the Easter Bunny has got that one covered," he smirked even though he knew she couldn't see him.

He heard her grunt over the line which was followed by a muffled curse.

"I nearly broke my ankle on an Easter egg," she grumbled.

"Not just any Easter egg. If my bunny sources are correct you nearly broke your ankle on an espresso flavoured Easter egg," he corrected her.

"Why is there an espresso flavoured Easter egg on the floor?" she asked.

"I think you'll find there's more than one babe," he chuckled; she was never that alert after she'd just woken up.

"What? Why?" she asked.

"It's a trail Beckett," he sighed, "The Easter Bunny left you a trail of espresso flavoured Easter eggs to follow."

"Oh, okay," she mumbled, "You should've just said so."

"Where's the fun in that?" he laughed, "Just follow the trail Beckett, the Easter Bunny is waiting for you."

He hung up after that and shook his head; she really was adorably clueless first thing in the morning. It wasn't long before he could hear her footsteps coming down the hallway and he took a second to double check that everything was ready before turning back to the doorway.

She was looking down as she entered the room, following the trail of eggs that were on the floor and it took her a moment to notice that the trail had ended. When she looked up a beautiful smile crossed her face almost instantly.

"Oh baby what has Daddy done to you?" she asked.

Their seventh month old son grinned, showing his gums as he spotted his mother and he reached out for her almost immediately. She went to him and took him from his father's lap, laughing as one of the ears from his costume flopped into her face.

"Castle why is our son wearing this ridiculous costume?" she asked, kissing the infant on the tip of his nose and making him giggle.

"He's not our son Beckett, he's the Easter Bunny," he replied shaking his head at her.

"You can't make him wear this costume Castle, he'll be uncomfortable," she argued.

"No he won't, it's soft and he likes it, don't you Ollie," he said tickling his son's ribs. The baby's blue eyes sparkled as he giggled burrowing into his mother to try and escape his father's tickling fingers.

"Daddy's mean isn't he Ollie bear," she said stroking his costume covered back, "Oh wow this is soft," she commented.

"See I told you so," he grinned, "He loves it and he looks so cute."

"He does look cute," she agreed, "But he will hate you when he's older if he finds pictures of himself wearing this."

"What do you think twenty first birthday parties are for Beckett," he said exasperatedly.

"Such a cruel Daddy," she murmured her fingers still stroking the soft fur of the costume.

"So what do you think?" he grinned, "Do you believe in the magic of the Easter Bunny now?"

"I'm getting there," she smiled, leaning forward to capture his lips with her own. The baby squirmed between them forcing them to part with a laugh.

"Mama mama," Ollie gurgled his hands reaching and tangling in his mother's hair.

"Happy Easter baby."


	9. Heartbeat

**Chapter Nine: **Heartbeat

Her eyes open, her body contorting on a painful gasp. Around her the walls are crumbling, flames still licking at the bits of furniture that have survived. She thinks she must be in shock because she can't feel anything and by the looks of her ankle and wrist she definitely should be.

She doesn't remember what happened but she knows that she wasn't alone when it did. She looks around for her partner but doesn't see him anywhere. Keeping her obviously broken wrist tucked in close to her chest she uses her other arm to sit up and coughs, trying to clear some of the smoke from her lungs.

The floor shudders beneath her as another section of wall collapses and she twists her body to try and escape the dust and debris that swirls around her. It's then and she tries to shield herself from the damage that she spots him. Across the other side of the room his body lies, unmoving amongst the shattered remnants of what must have once been somebody's living room.

"Castle," she croaks, the smoke she has inhaled making her voice rasp.

Now she can feel and pounding in her head and her ankle and wrist are letting her know that they are most definitely broken. Her wrist has an unnatural bulge and her ankle has swollen and is puffed out around the side of the stiletto heel she was wearing. Both appendages have already bruised, the dark purple and blue looking almost black in the eerie light of the flickering flames.

She knows she needs to get to him. From where she sits she can't see his face but he still isn't moving and a sob gets caught in her throat at the thought that he might not be okay. Gritting her teeth she uses the half crumbled wall behind her to inch herself to a stand position. The heat from the wall singes her back but she needs to get to him so she doesn't stop. Once standing she rests on one foot, not sure how she will move across the destroyed room.

Another shudder rocks through the room and she steels herself for what she knows is going to hurt. Slowly she shuffles across the floor, resting as little weight as possible on her broken ankle as she can. Her body screams at her to stop moving but her eyes don't stray from his prone form. She's two body lengths away from him when she puts too much weight on her injured leg and she cries out as her body buckles and she falls to the floor. Stars dance across her vision as her body is wracked in pain and she heaves violently as her body deals as best as it can. She is sobbing openly now, the stabbing pain from her broken limbs making her vision waver in and out. She's curled in on herself on the floor of a burning apartment and all she wants is to turn back time and wake up in his bed with his mused up bed hair greeting her with a kiss and a cup of coffee.

This can't be it for them. She refuses for this to be the end. They have so many more milestones to hit. In fact it feels like only yesterday she had been telling him she loved him as he had to leave her standing on a bomb. Why was it that trouble seemed to follow them wherever they went? Why was the universe so hell bent on making it hard for them to have their happily ever after?

She could give up with him so close. She could give up and close her eyes, giving in to the darkness that keeps creeping in at the edge of her vision. It would be the easy way out but Kate Beckett didn't do the easy way out. She fought for everything. Had fought to survive ever since her mother had been cruelly torn from life. When they got together she finally felt like she had begun to actually live. Sure before she had been alive but she had been existing, not living but Castle made her feel alive and she would be damned if she didn't fight with everything she had to make sure he was okay.

She sobbed with every painfully slow movement across the floor. She inched, face down flat on the floor until her head hit his body. Her jaw clenched she moved again into a sitting position and gasped when she saw his face. His cheeks were covered in a myriad of scratches and soot and her hand wavered as she reached out to brush the hair off his forehead.

"Castle," she whispered pitifully, her body swaying towards his.

His lack of response was like a knife through her chest and her vision blurred as she called his name again.

Over the roaring of the fire and the pounding in her head she could hear the sirens of approaching emergency vehicles. She knew the apartment would soon be swarming with ambulance, fire, and police officers who would tear the two of them apart under the ruse of getting them help. She couldn't bear for that to happen, couldn't bear to hear their sympathetic tones as they gave her the news that would guarantee her life would ever be the same again.

"Castle, please wake up," she pleaded with him, knowing logically what her next step should be.

She doesn't know why she's delaying, only that her limbs are apparently not listening to what her brain is telling them to do.

"Please," she whimpers, her forehead falling to rest against his, "Please Castle."

Her whole body is shaking now and she can't tell if it's fear or pain that makes her whole frame shudder. Shakily she runs her fingertips down his arm, holding her breath as she pushes two fingers into the underside of his wrist.

She collapses on his chest as the door bursts in and the voices of Ryan and Esposito shout into the darkness of the apartment. The tears that run down her face now are of relief and the steady pounding of his heart beneath her ear calms her shaking body. The noise of the crumbling apartment fade, the pain in her broken limbs receding until all she can hear is the reassuring heartbeat that convinces her that he is alive and when she finally passes out she knows that when she wakes up they will once again have proved the universe wrong.

* * *

**A/N: **It would be great to get some feedback on this story so I would really appreciate it if you amazing readers could take the time to leave a review.


	10. Stranger

**A/N: This is a sort of follow on from the previous chapter so I suggest you read that. That being said this one will stand as a story of it's own.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten: **Stranger

She has flashes. Moments of clarity that seem to mean nothing and everything at the same time.

Flashes of Esposito's strong arms trying to pull her away from Castle, of her screaming at him to let her go and then surrendering again to the darkness.

Of the friendly face of an ambulance driver who promised her that everything was going to be alright but she had to keep the oxygen mask on her face because they were worried she had inhaled smoke.

Of the grey haired doctor in the emergency room who apologised as he manoeuvred her wrist.

Of pleading the nurse who took her up to X-Ray to just let her see him. Of assuring her that she was fine if they would just take her to him. The woman's kind voice as she pushed her back into the chair telling her she could see him soon.

Of sitting again on a bed in the emergency ward and of the same doctor wrapping her wrist and elbow in plaster. The kind old man trying to make jokes with her as he did so.

Of another nurse coming in followed by Esposito and Ryan, both of whom looked far too grim. When she had begged them to give her an update on him they had both assured her that everything was fine but the looks on their faces told her otherwise.

Flinching as an IV was placed in her hand and the soft assurances of the nurse that everything would be okay if she just lay down. Swaying on the exam table as whatever pain medication was in the IV began to take effect but refusing to comply if they didn't take her to him.

Of Esposito coming to stand in front of her and telling her to lie down, his hands strong on her shoulders.

"But Castle," her voice slurring as she protested, the pain killers already trying to pull her under.

"It'll be okay Kate," Ryan saying as her body slumped forward, too weak to fight against the pain and medication.

"Castle," her mumble muffling against the strong chest of the Latino detective she was slumped against.

"We've got you chica," his arms gentling on her shoulders, her body sinking further into his as she gave into the pull of the medication.

A steady beeping wakes her from her medicated slumber and she struggles to pull her thoughts together. Her mind is a jumbled mess and she can't hold onto a thought for more than a few seconds before another is taking it's place. Her lungs feel like they are filled with lead and each breath seems to take too much effort. Her head is throbbing and she struggles to lift a hand to rub at her temple. She grunts when in her uncoordinated state she hits her head with something hard.

"Careful sweetie," a soft voice says as warm, gentle hands wrap around her arm and place it back on the bed.

The bump to the head has seemed to pull her from her confusion and she can focus on the concerned face of her best friend.

"Lanie?" she croaks, "What are you doing here?"

"Stopping you from making your concussion worse apparently," the ME tries for humour but it falls flat, "Girl you have to stop scaring me like this."

"Castle," she says suddenly, sitting upright in bed the pain a dull roar over the aching need to make sure he is okay.

Lanie's strong hands push her back onto the bed and she struggles to break free of her friend's grip.

"Lanie, let me go I've got to see him," she grunts, wriggling as much as she can.

"Kate stop!" Lanie says fiercely, something in her tone making her cease struggling.

"You've got a broken wrist and ankle, a concussion, suffering from smoke inhalation not to mention numerous cuts and bruises," Lanie says still leaning over her in and holding her down, "You're going to hurt yourself even more if you fight me."

"I need to see him," she gasps.

"You're not really up to moving right now," Lanie says sadly.

"I'm fine," she protests trying to sound strong, "I have to see him, I need to know he's okay. He's okay right?"

"He's alive," Lanie says reaching forward to brush some hair off her forehead.

"Alive? What does that mean? Lanie?" she protests, her breathing starting to come in short gasps as panic bleeds through.

"Breathe Kate," Lanie says, "You have to take deep breaths," the ME waits, her own breathing steady until they are breathing in sync.

"Please," she pleads, her one good hand coming up to grip the ME's wrist, "Just tell me what's going on."

"The force of the explosion threw him back into a wall," Lanie explains, "His head hit the wall pretty hard and caused his brain to swell. They had to rush him into surgery to reduce the intracranial pressure."

"Oh my god," she says her stomach swirling, "Is…is he okay?"

"He's in a coma," Lanie says, "It's normal following brain surgery for patients to be kept in a medicated sleep. It helps them heal," she says gently.

"Is he going to be okay?" she asks timidly, almost not wanting the answer.

"We won't know for certain until he wakes up. There are risks with any surgery but with brain injuries there can be complications that can effect memory, speech, muscle coordination and vision but doctors won't be able to test for these until they wake him up," Lanie tells her.

Memory. Speech. Vision. Muscle coordination. The words swirl around her head. Everything that makes him him could be taken away. He could become a shell, all because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. His coordination might be affected, he might not be able to see or write. He might not remember her, them or his daughter. Oh god, Alexis.

"I'm going to be sick," she says as bile rises in her throat.

Strong arms haul her up and a basin is shoved in front of her face. For what feels like eternity she heaves, a combination of pain, fear and the absolute horror of facing the possibility that he might not ever be the same again causing her stomach to revolt. When she comes back to herself she can hear her best friend murmuring to her, her gentle hands holding her hair and rubbing smoothing circles on her back.

A nurse who has appeared removes the basin when she is sure she is done and she collapses in on herself, sobs now trembling through her as she shivers.

"Castle," she cries.

"Oh honey," Lanie says, stroking her hair, "He'll be alright."

"You don't know that," she chokes out.

"No, I don't," Lanie says, "But all we can do for him now is be positive and wait for his body to heal."

"I need to see him," she says again, "Please Lanie, I have to be there."

"Alexis is with him," Lanie tells her, "She needs us to be strong."

"I can do that," she sniffs, "I can. I just have to be there, with him."

Lanie looks over to the nurse who is sceptical.

"You need to rest," the nurse tells her, "You've got some serious injuries of your own that need to heal."

"Broken bones are not the same," she explodes, "He needs me, I need to be with him."

"Kate, calm down," Lanie says quietly.

The nurse studies her for a second before nodding, obviously seeing something in her face that moves her, "I'll see what I can do."

"How long?" she asks Lanie once the nurse is gone, "How long will he have to be in a coma?"

"I'm not sure," the ME says, reaching for a tissue from the bedside and gently wiping off her friend's face, "But it can't be rushed. The longer his brain has to heal the better his chances."

"I don't know what I'll do if he doesn't remember," she says softly, her eyes fluttering closed briefly as grief takes over.

"He will," Lanie says, "And if he doesn't then we'll do everything we can to help him to."

"I love him Lanie," she tells her friend quietly.

"Oh baby I know you do," the ME says, "And that man loves you so much that there is no way he could forget it."

They both turn to the door as the nurse turns up with a wheelchair.

"As it turns out Mr Castle is quite wealthy," the nurse says stopping the wheelchair near the bed, "And his daughter promised an exorbitant amount of money if the two of you could be in the same room."

She gasps as the nurse starts to unplug monitors and wires, "Alexis?"

"Damn, Castle did good with that one," Lanie smirks.

"You are to remain in this chair until we get to the room," the nurse tells her sternly as both she and Lanie help her from the bed.

The pain rips through her but she stays silent, nodding at the nurse's instructions. She can breathe again when settled in the wheelchair and the nurse hooks up the IV to the pole.

"You will need to remain here a couple of days until doctor's are sure your lungs have not been severely compromised by the smoke," she says as they begin to move, "You will follow all of the doctor's instructions until they are satisfied you are fit to be discharged."

She nods, hardly taking anything in as they head towards the elevator. Around her the hospital lives and breathes but all she can concentrate on is moving forward towards the man who has stolen her heart.

"There will be plenty of us who make sure that she does," Lanie says standing resolutely next to the wheelchair as the elevator doors close, "Your Dad is on his way."

"Dad," she feels a little guilty for not thinking of him earlier.

"Don't worry I assured him you were okay," Lanie tells her as they move out of the elevator.

Ryan and Esposito stand guard outside his hospital room and both of them take a moment to tell her in their own way how glad they are that she's okay.

"Can't remember the last time a girl passed out simply by being wrapped in my arms," Esposito teases her.

"In a bit of a dry spell Javi?" she ribs him back.

Alexis and Martha are by his bedside and both red heads stand as they enter. Alexis' eyes are red and her cheeks stained by tears and the teenager rushes forward as they come closer.

"Kate," she breathes stopping short of throwing her arms around her shoulders.

"I'm so sorry Alexis," she replies.

"It's not your fault," Martha interrupts, "Darling we're just glad you're okay."

"Castle," she breathes when she catches a glimpse of him through the two women who surround her.

"He's not in any pain," Alexis reassures, although she can't tell who she is reassuring more.

His face is pale against the sheets. The white bandage that is wrapped around his head shocks her forward and several arms reach out to push her back as she moves to get out of the wheelchair to get to him.

"Kate," Lanie admonishes as the nurse wheels her closer, understanding her need to be near him.

"Oh Castle," she reaches forward, startling as the cast on her wrist knocks awkwardly into the railing on his bed. In her haste to reach him she had almost forgotten her own injuries.

"I'll leave you for awhile," the nurse says quietly, "She can stay in the chair until the IV runs out but after that she'll need to get back into bed," the nurse tells Lanie.

She isn't really listening to what is being said around her as she reaches her other hand and reaches for his. His skin is warm and soft beneath hers and she holds on as if she is afraid he will disappear. The others are quiet as they watch the two of them but for once she doesn't care.

"Please be okay," she whispers to him, her head bowing forward so that her lips touch the skin of his hand, the only part of him she can reach from the chair, "Please remember."

The lasting thing she can remember is whispering promises into the skin of his hand, promises of all the things they would do if he woke up. Now she feels as if she is surfacing from underwater as fingers stroke gently through her hair and a voice calls her name from far away.

As awareness washes through her she can suddenly feel the aches and pains returning, her wrist, her ankle, her head and now her back screaming at her for having fallen asleep in the chair with her head resting on his bed.

"Katie," her name is called again and for a minute she mistakes the male voice as his but when it comes again she is ashamed that she is disappointed it is her father.

"Dad," she grunts swaying slightly as she rises.

"Easy," her father says as he reaches forward to steady her.

"I'm okay," she assures him, though one look into her father's eyes and she knows he is not convinced.

"Time to get back into bed sweetheart," he tells her.

"No, Dad, Castle," she stutters gripping her partner's hand.

"He'll be right here," her father says, "You'll be able to see him from your bed," he indicates an identical bed less than a metre away.

He almost pleads with her when she starts to protest, "Katie you're hurt, you need to rest."

"I was resting," she protests.

"Please Katherine," he says and she stops to really look at him. Her father looks old. The deep creases at the corners of his eyes stand out under the fluorescent lighting of the hospital room. She realise how scared he must have been getting a phone call telling him she was in hospital again.

"Only for a little while," she concedes, allowing him to wheel her over and help her into the bed.

"You know when your mother and I had been dating for a couple of months she broke her ankle," he tells her when she's comfortable.

"Really, how'd she do that?" she asks, watching the nurse enter the room and check on her partner.

The woman jots something down on his chart and then moves over to her bed.

"Well I was on the hockey team at the time and I had convinced her that it would be a good idea to go skating at this little frozen lake I'd discovered just outside the city," her father continues as the nurse unhooks her IV from the pole on the chair and hooks her up to the one next to the bed.

"How's your pain?" the nurse interrupts.

"I'm fine," she replies automatically though everyone in the room can tell it's a lie.

"You'll be here longer if you lie to us," the nurse tells her gently, "You do more damage trying to push through pain than you do if you let us help."

"It hurts," she admits after awhile, sighing as the nurse nods and pushes something into the IV.

"That will help," the woman says.

"How is he?" she asks, using her casted hand to point to the prone form of her partner.

"He's doing well," the nurse tells her.

She drifts off as her father continues his story, eyes focussed on her partner and the nurses reassurances that he was doing okay running through her head for as long as she can keep her eyes open.

She is discharged two days later although with the amount of time she spends at the hospital she might as well have stayed longer. He still isn't awake but the doctors tell her that his injury is healing nicely. They have lightened his sedation, enough so that he will now come out of it on his own when he is ready. They tell her it could be in the next couple of minutes or days, everyone is different and all they can do now is wait.

His daughter sits next to her a book in her lap as she reads to him. Alexis decided pretty early on that having meaningless conversation with her father was depressing when he couldn't respond so has taken to reading to him from the books left on his nightstand.

The constant lilt of his daughter's voice is soothing and she can feel herself nodding off, jerking awake when her chin hits her chest. This cycle feels endless, as she doesn't want to give in to sleep although her body is craving it, her still healing injuries sapping her of energy. She doesn't want to waste the minimal visiting hours they are allowed by sleeping and so she struggles valiantly to keep her eyes open.

It is a slight pressure on her hand that jerks her awake this time. She looks around in confusion before she feels it again.

"Castle," she whispers and her quiet murmur causes his daughter to stop reading.

"Castle," she says again when he squeezes her hand a little harder.

"Dad?" Alexis is looking at her in confusion but she pushes herself out of the chair she had been sitting on, ignoring the crutches she has been instructed to use when standing.

"Kate!" Alexis calls this time, pushing her gently back into the chair.

She squeezes his hand back, still calling his name and her heart soars as his eyelids flutter.

"Castle, wake up, come on," she calls to him, realising in the back of her mind that Alexis has run from the room, presumably to get a nurse.

He sucks in a breath as his eyelids flutter, once, twice before they open and stay open. She can see the confusion on his face as he takes in his surroundings and her breath catches in her throat as he turns to look at her. There is a moment of silence as they stare at one another and her heart pounds wildly in her chest as his eyes stare blankly at her face.

"Kate," he whispers as his vision clears and her breath pours out of her on a sob.

"Hey stranger," she laughs with tears of pure unadulterated joy streaming down her cheeks.

* * *

**A/N: As always it would be great to hear from people who are reading the story. Thanks again to those who have read, reviewed, alerted, favourited so far. **


	11. Confusion

**Chapter Eleven: **Confusion

* * *

She was mad, he could tell.

If she were a cartoon there would be steam pouring out of her ears.

She was mad but she was trying to pretend that she wasn't.

Ever since 'Washingtongate' she had been trying so hard to be the 'perfect' girlfriend. He knew she had been holding back, keeping in all the things that were irritating her because she wanted to be right for him. Apparently in her mind she had to make up for hurting him by pretending that everything was okay all the time.

And now he had stood her up, accidentally of course, but stood her up all the same and she was trying so hard to pretend that she wasn't mad that it almost made him laugh.

"I'm sorry Kate I though you said meet at the cinema at 7 and then dinner after," he said as he watched her stand at the dresser, painstakingly taking out the pins that held her hair up in an elegant bun.

"If I'd said meet at the cinema at 7 then I would've been there at 7," she muttered under her breath, "It's fine Castle," she said louder so he could hear.

"It's not fine," he said coming to stand behind her, his hands hovering over her shoulders.

It had been awkward every sine he had proposed to her on the swings. She had turned both the job and his proposal down, but had agreed to move into the loft with a promise of marriage when she thought they were ready. They had been tiptoeing around one another ever since and while he had found it easy to read her in the past he was now uncertain and couldn't tell if touching her right now would be the right thing to do.

"You can be mad if you want to you know," he said, still standing behind her.

"I'm not mad," she said now moving on to taking off her jewellery, "We just got our wires crossed is all."

It wasn't okay for her to be so reserved. Usually if she was mad at him he knew it. It was normal in fact for her to be irritated and to let him know. It meant things were all right in the world. Holding in her anger because she thought if she got mad at him it would ruin their relationship was not right and he was determined to make things right.

"You can be mad you know," he said, "I left you standing there for an hour and you went to all this effort," he indicated her outfit, "I mean doing your hair alone must have taken an hour and now it was all wasted because I got the times confused."

She moved towards the walk in wardrobe, unzipping her dress as she went. He followed her inside and watched as she stepped out of the garment and hung it up. She walked past him now in her underwear and went to her side of the bed where her pyjamas were stored underneath her pillow.

"Yeah well next time," she shrugged with a forced calmness.

She was gorgeous, all long limbs and golden skin and he was momentarily distracted as she stretched to pull the oversized t-shirt on over her head. Shaking his head he moved closer to her.

"Yeah but if only I hadn't forgotten my phone," he said, "That must have been so frustrating, you calling and calling to find out where I was and it was here on the kitchen table. Imagine all the confusion could have been prevented if I'd just remembered to put my phone in my pocket."

He could tell he was getting to her. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her sides and he could tell by the tense set of her jaw that she was gritting her teeth.

"And if you hadn't left your keys inside then you would've have had to wait for me in the hall," he said, "I mean as if it wasn't bad enough that I'd stood you up and forgotten my keys you then had to sit out in the hall for me to finally get back here and let you in."

"It's not like we didn't confirm the time a thousand times," she exploded finally and he was so relieved that he smiled, "Oh you think it's funny? That I had to sit at the table and have the waiters and diners looking at me with pity. Look at that poor girl, her date stood her up," she mimicked stalking closer to him so she was in his space.

"Oh that must have been terrible," he said still smiling.

"And of course you forgot your phone so I couldn't even contact you," she yelled, "Would it kill you for once in your life to be organised?"

"Oh I'm the worst," he said and he could tell his flippant attitude was riling her up even more.

"And then I had to sit outside like I was one of Richard Castle's floozies, so desperate for him that I would wait hours on the floor of his hallway until he was home," her cheeks were flushed and her chest heaved as she ended her tirade. In normal circumstances he would have been a little afraid at the mutinous look on her face but he was just so happy that she was allowing herself to get mad at him that he couldn't stop himself from leaning forward and brushing a quick kiss to her lips.

"Welcome back sweetheart," he chuckled.

* * *

**A/N: The pet names thing has also intrigued me about these two. While I can't see them using them a lot out of the two of them I think Castle would be the more likely one to use them. What do you guys think? Kate or Castle and if they were to use them what do you think they would be?**


	12. Bitter

**Chapter Twelve: **Bitter

* * *

A New York City winter was not something that could be described, only experienced. It was both beautiful and treacherous and the frigid winds kept even the truest of New Yorkers shut up behind closed doors.

The Castle loft was kept warm all year round. The thermostat set so it always felt inviting and it was one of the things Kate had first noticed when she had started spending more time there. Her own apartment was cold, despite the heating she had always had to wear thick socks when she was home to stay warm. Now that she had moved in permanently she delighted in walking around in a t-shirt and her pyjama shorts despite it being the middle of winter.

It felt cold inside the loft that morning. When she woke his side of the bed was empty and the sheets were cold. She had wandered through the office and into the living room and stopped when she saw him. He was standing in front of the large windows that looked out across the city and even from where she was standing she could see his shoulders were tense. Walking up to him she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his shoulder blade.

"Morning," she said softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade through the material of his shirt.

When he didn't reply she shifted around his body so she was resting in the cove of his arms, her back pressed against the window and her front pressed against his chest.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Confused," he replied resting his cheek on the top of her head.

When they were at work she loved that her heels put her at eye level with most of her male co-workers however when they were here at home, just the two of them, she secretly loved that she could fit herself under his chin. It made her feel safe, like he could shelter from the outside world and they could just be together.

"I know," she whispered back burrowing further into his chest.

"I mean I only really met him once," he says back.

"That you know of," she interjects, "You said it yourself he's been influential on your life without you even being aware of it."

"James Bond," he sighed tightening his grip around her, "But he was still so absent, for my whole life Kate, even after Paris, I never saw him again."

"That doesn't mean he didn't see you Castle," she said, her lips brushing his collarbone as she turned away from the window, "His entire job relied on him seeing but being seen. He looked out for you even before you knew who he was."

"After we met I knew he couldn't be like every other Dad, I came to terms with that but I would have thought he would have made more of an effort, for me, for Alexis," he buried his face in her hair.

"It's okay to be upset with him, it's okay to be angry, "she said," But I think he would have contacted you more if it was safe. Think about what he did, the lengths he went to to keep you and Alexis safe and alive. If he had been able I'm sure he would have been here."

He hummed in his throat but she felt the tense muscles in his back start to relax. A breath stuttered in his chest and she leaned back to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"My Dad is dead," he murmured pressing his forehead to hers, "My father is gone Kate."


	13. Afterlife

**Chapter Thirteen: **Afterlife

* * *

Her calves ached and she sighed in relief when she finally kicked her heels off in the entry to his apartment. The case had been brutal, three young kids had been found murdered and left posed in playground equipment in Central Park. It had hit them all hard and they had been putting in gruelling hours to get it closed. She had sent Castle home earlier to spend some time with Alexis. He had argued that he hadn't wanted to leave her but she could tell that the case was getting to him and he was itching to see his daughter. After promising to meet him at his place the second the paperwork was finished and to keep him updated by text message throughout the day he had finally relented and rushed off to the Columbia campus. She had texted him every so often throughout the rest of the day but he yet to reply. She was certain he had something up his sleeve, something to make her feel better which was the reason for the radio silence. Usually she would curl up at home, soak in a bath with a good book but this time she was looking forward to going home, to him, no matter what crazy scheme he had planned.

With the killer behind bars and the paperwork finally completed Gates had given them the next two days off and her team had wasted no time in rushing out of the precinct. Dropping her keys and badge in the bowl by his entry she expected to be greeted by some large and extravagant dinner or bunch of flowers but instead was met with silence. Silence in the Castle household only meant one thing, something must be horribly wrong.

"Castle?," she called, immediately pulling her gun from it's holster on her hip.

Getting no response she moved slowly through the entry and to the kitchen. Her training kicking in immediately she made sure to keep the wall to her back to ensure nobody could get the drop on her. Having taken her shoes off in the entryway she was able to move across the smooth hardwood floor without making a sound and her ears strained to pickup other sounds from within the apartment.

Moving towards his office she noted his laptop open on the coffee table, the screen saver racing across the screen and reminding him he should be writing. She knows that it had been on his bedside table when they left the house early that morning so he had to be in the apartment somewhere. Hearing a scuffling sound in the direction of his office she moved deftly across the floor towards the sound.

She was nearly through the opening between the parallel bookshelves that lined the opening to the office when she nearly tripped over a white blur that streaked through the gap and out into the living room. Not viewing this as a credible threat she holsters her gun just in time because she is bowled over by her partner who comes screaming through the gap from his bedroom.

He yelps as the two of them collide and she scrambles for purchase but finds nothing but air. The breath is knocked out of her as they go tumbling to the ground, his body hitting hers as they collide with the hard floor.

"Beckett?" he asked, pushing up on his hands so that he was hovering above her.

"Castle, what the hell?" she wheezed trying to catch her breath.

"Casper," he gasped, scrambling to his feet and looking wildly around him.

"Did you bump your head when you fell?" she asked still on the floor.

"I've go to find him," he muttered.

"Maybe I bumped my head," she said, rubbing her hand across the back of her head, checking for lumps, "Why are you looking for a fictitious ghost in the apartment?"

"Not a ghost, a dog," he replied.

"A dog?" she asked, "Must've hit my head harder than I thought."

He is rushing frantically through the apartment and she hurries to catch up with him, grabbing his elbow to make him stop.

"Castle, stop and explain for a second," she said.

"I went to Columbia to visit Alexis," he started, his eyes still darting nervously across the room, "And I decided to walk home to clear my head a little. I passed this pet store and I thought that there would be nothing better to lift my spirits than surrounding myself with cute little animals so I went in. The cashier recognised me and she said I could hold anything I wanted."

"I'm sure she did," Kate muttered an irrational flash of jealously coursing through her.

"Anyway," he grinned pulling her towards him, "I saw this little guy in the window and it was like fate. We locked eyes and that was it Kate, I knew I had to take him home."

"You bought a dog," she said trying to wrap her head around it, "You bought a dog. Castle did you even think about this at all?"

"Not really," he shrugged sheepishly, "But it will be great Kate. We both loved Royal and you said it yourself back then that you had been thinking about getting a dog."

"But things are different now," she protested.

"Oh just you wait, he's so cute and it'll be fun. We can take him for walks on the weekend and teach him all sorts of tricks," he bounced giddily.

"What about while we're at work?" she asked, "Who's going to look after him then?"

"Mother will be here often enough when we're not," he said, "And I can pop in during the day sometimes as well if I'm not here writing."

"I don't know Castle," she protested feebly, though she could feel the fight going out of her.

"Come on Kate, at least help me find him and then you can meet him and we can make up our minds," he pleaded with her.

He just looked so excited that she couldn't say no. Nodding her head slightly he punched the air happily before pulling her in for a quick kiss. Laughing at his excitement she let him pull her further into the living room.

"Casper," he called happily giving a little whistle, "Where are you pup?"

She rolled her eyes when he signalled using the signs he had seen her use with the boys when they were on a takedown she followed his directions and headed further into the living room while he headed towards the stairs. When she couldn't hear anything other than Castle's heavy footsteps on the stairs she stopped and looked around for any clues that might tell her where the puppy had escaped to. The gap between the floor and the couch was too small for the dog to fit under and the table that rested against the far wall was tall enough that she could see that the dog wasn't hiding underneath. Leaving only one possible option if the dog remained in this room she moved slowly towards the coffee table not wanting to spook the animal if he was indeed where she suspected.

She drops to her knees slowly in front of the coffee table and bends over to peek underneath. For a moment all she sees is darkness before the puppy bounds out and lands on her chest, knocking her back for the second time in five minutes.

"Oof," she grunted as the animal licks her face enthustiasticaly.

The puppy barks happily as she picks him up and holds him out so she can get a look at him. He really is adorable, like a big ball of white cotton wool with floppy ears and a tail that is wagging enthusiastically at her. She can see what he means about falling for the puppy because she feels an irrational pang in her chest about giving the little dog up. The puppy scrambles in the air and she pulls him into her chest. The dog burrows itself into her lap and she feels her heart melt as he looks up at her with wide eyes.

"Hey boy," she murmured, scratching between his ears.

The dog sags against her and she smiles softly as he struggles to keep his eyes open. She continues stroking her hand across his fur until the dog is asleep in her lap and she looks up when she hears footsteps coming her way.

"Hey you found him," Castle grinned, dropping down to sit next to her on the living room floor, "I think he likes you."

"He is pretty cute Castle," she said, leaning over so her head rested against his shoulder, her hand still running through the dogs fluffy white fur.

"He's a Samoyed," Castle said reaching over to stroke the dog's ears, "I bought him a bunch of toys and stuff and I set his bed up in the bedroom but if you're not happy with him sleeping there we can move him out to the living room."

"It's okay," she shakes her head, "He can stay."

"Of course we can shut the door sometimes," he wiggles his eyebrows at her.

She thumped his chest, "So how come you decided on Casper?"

He looked at her as if she was crazy, "He's white like a ghost."

"Of course," she grinned, "I should've guessed."

"Are you okay with this?" he asked suddenly serious, "I mean I did kind of spring this on you and it's kind of a big commitment. If you're not okay we can take him back."

"It's okay," she said kissing him softly, "He's great and it's kind of like practice right," she said a blush almost immediately rising to her cheeks.

"I love you," he said softly, letting her off the hook.

"I love you," she said back, "And I love our dog."

"Our dog," he grinned back happily, "We have a dog."

* * *

**A/N: As always would be great to hear from some of you. I'll probably revisit the Casper storyline later on in the series if people like the idea. **


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